Munchkins and Sex Don't Mix
by SalishSea
Summary: "Munchkin?" she hissed as a tiny drop of sweat fell from her chest to pool in the hallow of his collarbone under his chin. "Munchkin?" she repeated with more disdain. "What the hell's that about, Jethro?" If looks could kill, her glare would have been his demise. (Be careful what you say in the throes of passion. Especially when you're on the bottom. One-shot.)


**A/N: Continuation of the "A New Set of Rules" future reality with Gibbs and Barrett in an established relationship. **

**Where did Gibbs come up with his pet name - Munchkin - for EJ? Much to his chagrin, and pleasure, it happened during one very private moment between them. **

* * *

_**Munchkins and Sex Don't Mix**_

"God, Erica, I love it! You are so friggin' small, Munchkin," he husked, his hands cupping her ass, pulling her down as she straddled him. She rocked her hips back and forth against him, sweat glistening on her breasts and stomach, her eyes closed and brow furrowed in concentration.

At his words she froze, dead still, opened her eyes and glared at him.

He looked up at her. Only a moment before her lips had been drawn tight into a half-smile at the pleasure of feeling him inside her as she expertly moved her hips over him, grinding herself into him, building toward her release. Her lips were still drawn tight, but into a frown instead of a smile and the look on her face had changed from blissed to pissed.

Caught off guard, panting with desire, his hands still pulling on her very small and firm butt, he stuttered, "What? What is it?"

She slowly leaned forward and down, bringing her face a few inches from his, her firm, petite breasts barely brushing against his salt and pepper hair as her chest heaved in and out while she fought to catch her breath.

"Munchkin?" she hissed as a tiny drop of sweat fell from her chest to pool in the hallow of his collarbone under his chin. "Munchkin?" she repeated with more disdain. "What the hell's that about, Jethro?"

If looks could kill, her glare would have been his demise.

Breathing hard, his face and neck still flushed red, he struggled to bring his attention fully to his present predicament. "Huh? Oh! Well ..., you're so damn tiny. Like the Munchkins from the Wizard of Oz. They're so ..., you know ..., cute."

"Tiny?" she said, her eyes widening. "And cute?" she breathed menacingly, her lips just inches above his. "That's what you think of when I'm fucking your brains out ..., Munchkins?"

He stared at her lips, close enough to kiss, and he licked his unconsciously. She ground her hips into him, rocking once from side to side. He closed his eyes and groaned, squeezing his hands tighter on her ass, trying to hold her still to keep her from torturing him further.

"I don't think of you as a Munchkin," he pushed out, obviously struggling to concentrate. "It's a figure of speech," she adjusted her hips again and he stopped, drew a sharp breath and choked out the rest of his sentence, "a term of endearment."

"Jethro?" she queried, her voice still low and dangerous.

"Huh?" he replied, opening his eyes which were again captivated by her lips, hovering just above his.

"Do you like having sex with me?" she whispered.

He snapped his gaze from her lips to her eyes, which were boring holes into his.

"Yeah," he rasped.

"Do you want to continue having sex with me?"

"Erica ...," he protested, a slight whine in his voice.

She moved her hips again. He rolled his eyes up and back into his head letting out another groan.

"Answer the question," she commanded.

"Yes," he breathed out.

"Then ..., no more _Munchkin_ during sex. Got that?" her voice still livid with anger.

"Yeah. Copy that," he said, exhaling as he spoke.

He took in another deep breath and brought his eyes back to hers. "Erica, I love you - all of you. Especially your body. You're exquisite. I didn't mean anything about the Munch ..., about the name thingy. I'm sorry."

At his apology her hard-edged glare faded, replaced by a soft smile. The tenseness in her body drained away and she laid herself fully on his chest, nuzzling her face into his neck.

"Thank you, Jethro."

"For what, exactly?"

"For saying you're sorry. I know how hard that still is for you. I know it means that you trust me - that you love me."

He moved his hands from her butt to her back and pulled her tighter into him.

"I suppose you'll get a lot of apologies over the years to come," he sighed.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Cause I'm not perfect, Erica. Far from it. Especially in relationships. There'll be plenty of opportunities for me to apologize."

"You are perfect ..., for me!" she kissed his cheek and leaned up on one elbow to recapture his eyes with hers. "And I won't ever let you forget that."

He reached his hand up behind her head and pulled her gently down into a soft, slow, lingering kiss.

As the kiss came to its end she slowly sat back up, still straddling his hips. She took his hands in hers and moved them back to her ass, firmly planting each on its respective cheek. He looked at her, surprised.

"What?" she said with mock annoyance. "You didn't think you were getting off that easy, did you?" her voice low and deep. "You still got a job to do and I'm getting kinda impatient," she smirked at him.

He smiled up at her. "So, where were we?"

She bit her lower lip, tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

### END ###


End file.
